


Come back to me

by larrypls



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Child Harry, Child Louis, M/M, Underage Kissing, harry is younger than louis, louis is still a child, no smut sorry, sorry idk what this is
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-07
Updated: 2013-08-07
Packaged: 2017-12-22 17:20:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/915961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/larrypls/pseuds/larrypls
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Louis is Harry's doll and comes to life at night.</p><p> </p><p>Inspired by Louis in Oman looking like a Ken doll :)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Come back to me

**Author's Note:**

> hiiii guys,  
> this is for my angel toni, i promised this her months and months ago when we first started talking!! you can find her on twitter: @softkittylouis i love you sweet! Xx
> 
> disclaimer:  
> this is purely a work of fiction, the characters involved are not owned by me ((unfortunately :(((( ))
> 
> find me on twitter: @louquorice  
> OR  
> on my tumblr: sxnshinelouis.tumblr.com/

Harry had a secret. His doll came alive at night. It wasn't something he had made up in his head, as other 6 year olds would. He knew something was special about the doll as soon as he had seen it in the shop. It was the last on the shelf that day, and Harry liked to think it was fate. It was similar to a Ken doll, but with more appeal.The doll had soft caramel hair, stylishly coiffed, that didn't feel like the ratty locks of a Barbie. It had bright blue eyes and a wide smile. The 'Louis' doll was wearing a button up floral blue shirt with the sleeves neatly rolled, paired with bleached denim jeans and van style trainers. The figure of the doll was very different from the majority crammed on the shelves; it had strong arms, small tummy, and strong legs, not to mention it stood slightly shorter than 'regular' dolls. Despite this, 6 year old Harry thought he was perfect.  
Anne, of course, was prepared to pay for the doll, as a special treat; it was the summer holidays, and Harry didn't have many friends; he needed something to amuse himself with. As soon as he got home, he carefully removed the packaging and played with the doll for the whole evening. Gemma even bought in her old barbies for Harry to have.  
"No! Louis is mine, he isn't interested with silly, smelly girls!" His small nose wrinkled in disgust.  
\--  
That night when Harry was tucked up tight in bed, he heard a rustling sound. He ignored it, shut his eyes tight and tried to sleep. A few moments later he heard the noise again. Again, the now frightened little boy, tried with all the strength he could muster to cuddle down in his duvet and get to sleep. The third time he heard the noise, he slowly opened his left eye a crack, peering around his darkened room cautiously. He scanned very carefully, trying to make sure there was nothing that could kill him in his sleep. Satisfied his room was empty, he shut his eyes, reassured. But then he heard the noise again. And this time, he just couldn't ignore it. He boldly opened his eyes, and nearly cracked his head off the wall in shock when he saw a little boy, slightly older than him sitting cross legged on his carpet. Harry opened his mouth, gawping at the pretty boy; he was wearing the same clothes as his Louis doll?  
"Lou-?" His quiet voice cut off, obviously in shock.  
"Harry it's me! Louis!" Louis' voice was slightly higher than Harry had anticipated.  
"But... But you're a doll? And... and... and... And you're a man doll, not a boy doll?" He managed to stutter out.  
"Well you see Harry," Louis began, his blue eyes sparkling mischievously, "I _am_ your Louis doll. But I'm also me! A boy I mean." He said, as if it was the simplest concept in the world.  
"But.. How?" The older boy shrugged his shoulders  
"Who knows Haz!" Harry blushed at his new nickname, but decided he liked it. Harry thought he liked everything that Louis said.  
"How old are you Louis?" Harry whispered cautiously, climbing carefully off his bed to sit next to the entrancing character.  
"I'm 8," He smiled brightly. Harry's smile faded off his face, and his head drooped sadly. Louis was a big boy, they obviously couldn't be friends, he probably had loads of cool older friends he liked to play with.  
"Hey... what's wrong?" Louis' small hand touched Harry's face gently, tilting it upwards slightly so their eyes met.  
"We can't be friends Louis..."  
"And why on earth not Harry?" Louis demanded, blue eyes filled with an almost angry look.  
"You're a big boy... and... and I'm only six." Little Harry felt the tears well in his eyes, but he blinked them away furiously, embarrassed to be so upset in front of the prettiest person he had ever seen.  
"Who has ever told you that Harry?" His voice dropped to a whisper, "I think we could be best friends..." Harry's eyes shot up, the confusion apparent in his eyes. "Well... only if you'd like that." Harry nodded eagerly, really smiling now, overjoyed to have a proper best friend to call his own. Louis poked his dimple, giggling slightly.  
They stayed up for a few hours, learning a lot about each other; favourite colours, animals, everything that was important to know about each other in a young friendship. After a long chat, Harry could feel tiredness overcome him, yawning loudly. His hand shot over his mouth, remembering his manners. Louis smiled sweetly, looking at Harry like he never wanted to see any other face except his.  
"Do you need to sleep Harry?" He said with slight concern, which he tried to hide.  
"No! Want to... Want..." His eyes were fluttering closed, sleep nearly taking over him. He kept his eyes shut but felt warm arms around him, keeping him safe, and tucking him into bed.  
That night Harry dreamt of cerulean eyes, high pitched giggles and crinkly smiles.  
\--  
The next morning, Harry woke up to the smell of toast from downstairs. He skipped down happily, a huge smile on his face. _Must have been a good dream_ he thought to himself. He ate his toast, trying to think what he could have dreamt about that had put him in such a good mood. After finishing his breakfast, he cleared away his place, thanked his mother and returned to his bedroom. He saw his Louis doll on the floor, and the memories of the previous night came flooding back to him. He couldn't help but feel disappointed that he couldn't actually talk to his new friend, but he could, of course, play with him for the whole day, with no school to interrupt them.  
Harry wanted Louis to look as smart as possible, which was why he had bought so many outfits for the doll. He changed the doll into a cotton t-shirt with a printed image of palm trees, paired with white shorts and black espadrilles.  
"There you are Lou, now you're ready for the day!" Even though Harry couldn't have a conversation with Louis, he still spoke to him, and that was enough for Harry. He felt that Louis was with him in presence, even if he wasn't physically there.  
They played the whole day, Harry chattering away noisily. Anne occasionally cracked the door open to peer in at her little boy, who was completely infatuated with his new toy. At dinner time, Harry had demanded Louis his own space at the table, propped up on his chair by books. And Anne just smiled, because that doll was keeping her Harry happy.  
When Harry got put to bed that night, he couldn't sleep. _When will Louis wake up? Will he wake up? What if it was only for one night?_. The thoughts rushed around his head, and with every hour passing the more concerned and upset he got. _He doesn't want to be my friend anymore does he_? He felt a lump in his throat, and tried to swallow it down, ignoring the pin pricks of tears that threatened to fall down his cheeks. He sniffed loudly, wiping his nose on his pajama sleeve. He curled up under his covers, and cried. Harry had always been a happy child, but he got attached easily, and he honestly thought Louis would want to see him again.  
"Harry?!" A concerned voice interrupted his sobbing. "Harry, is that you?" He didn't dare say anything, in fear that it was just his imagination playing cruel tricks on him. He felt little hands gently squeezing his arm, pulling the duvet back. He sat up, unsure and upset. His vision was slightly blurred from his tears, and his eyelashes stuck together.  
"Louis...?" Harry said quietly.  
"Yes Harry it's me! It's Louis! I'm here, what's wrong? Please tell me what's wrong?" Harry felt the warm, soft fingers gently wiping his tears away; caring, concerned.  
"I... I thought that..." Harry's voice was cracked and croaky, and most of his words were inaudible, drowned out my little sniffs and sobs. "I thought you didn't... you didn't..."  
"Haz what did you think? I didn't what? Please tell me?" Louis arm snaked round Harry's back, trying to calm and reassure him.  
After a few minutes of sweet encouragements, Harry finally managed to squeak out,  
"I thought that because you didn't turn up..." he paused hesitantly "I thought you didn't want to be friends. I thought you weren't coming." He avoided the bright blue eyes staring at him, and his gaze fell into his small hands, twisting nervously, curls framing his face.  
"Oh Harry, of course I want to be your friend... it's just I haven't really mastered the whole waking up thing.. I'll try, I'll really try for you Harry, I'm so sorry you had to wait today I-" Louis was cut off by Harry flinging his arms around Louis' slim waist, and burying his face into the smooth crevice of Louis' neck. And Louis just smiled, nuzzling his face into the strawberry scented curls.  
\--  
Months passed and as Harry got older, his close relationship with Louis only grew stronger. Before they knew it, it was Harry's birthday. He got lots of presents; lego, jigsaw puzzles, and his particular favourite, a new puppy. It was a very sweet little thing, a cavalier king charles spaniel, with soft curly ears and bright eyes that could melt even the toughest of people. His name was Sherlock and Harry fell in love with him the second he lay his eyes on him.  
Instead of spending the day playing with Louis, he attempted to start training Sherlock. It was hard work, but the puppy was fairly clever, and picked up a few tricks quite quickly. It was tiring for such a small boy, and he (reluctantly) went to bed early, sleep taking over him the second his head hit the pillow.  
A few hours after Harry had drifted off, Louis woke up. He wanted to give Harry his present. It wasn't expensive or particularly special, but Louis had been waiting to give him this gift as soon as he set his eyes on the discombobulated, yet charming little boy.  
He stepped towards the sleeping boy cautiously, not wanting to give him a rude awakening. Louis thought that Harry was the most exquisite person he had ever seen, in every aspect of the word. Harry was enchanting, and completely captivated everyone who spoke to him. Harry was smooth ivory skin and lush rosebud cheeks, indented by the deep crevices of his dimples. Harry was sparkling eyes, full of emotion and passion for life. Harry was plush full lips, spouting cautious and gentle words, eager to not disappoint, which he never did. And Louis would never understand why those that spoke to him didn't fall in love with him instantaneously. Harry was sunshine on a cloudy day. And Louis wanted to feel his rays forever.  
"Harry," He whispered to the sleeping boy. He murmered slightly in his dreams, eyelids twitching lightly. Louis' small hand reached out and rocked the younger boy gently. This was more successful, and Harry regained consciousness.  
"Sherlock, go away puppy I'm trying to sleep." He muttered in the firmest tone he could muster.  
"No Harry... it's me, Louis," Harry was still thinking about the puppy, he tried to keep the hurt out of his voice, yet it still managed to seep in slightly.  
The younger boy sat up, rubbing the sleepy dust out of his eyes, and stretching, letting a huge yawn out of his mouth. Louis thought he looked like a baby lion cub.  
"Sorry for not staying up Lou," he said groggily, brow furrowing a little.  
Louis reached forward and poked his forehead, smoothing the wrinkles that had formed there, and making Harry smile despite his sleepiness.  
"I wanted to give you your birthday present," Louis said, ruffling his best friend's curls.  
"Well what is it Lou?" Harry said curiously, properly awake now.  
"Right... okay... close your eyes," He was nervous now.  
Harry's eyes shut, a tentative but content smile on his face.  
He leaned forward, and places both of his small hands either side of Harry's face. He breathed deeply, trying to calm himself. Harry felt his cool, minty breath wash over his face, but still waited patiently for his present. His breath hitched as he sensed Louis moving closer to him. He felt something on his lips. _Someone elses lips? Louis' lips?_ It was nice. Louis' lips were lovely, warm and patient, full of love. It was in that moment that he knew he never wanted the older boy to keep his lips off him. But before he could respond to the gesture, Louis' lips were no longer attached to his.  
"Happy birthday Harry," Louis whispered against his skin, before disappearing. When Harry opened his eyes, Louis was gone. All that was left was his doll on the floor.  
Harry crawled back under his duvet and fell asleep with a smile on his face.  
That night he dreamt of soft lips, sweet whispers and Louis, Louis, Louis.  
\--  
Harry woke up the next morning, feeling happier than he'd ever felt. Louis had kissed him. Louis had actually kissed him. Harry cared for Louis a lot. No, Harry loved Louis, and he was not ashamed or fearful of it. In fact he wanted to tell everyone he knew that he loved Louis.  
But the problem was, Harry had experienced being in love for his entire life. Not just with people; but with feelings, sights, sounds, smells. Harry had decided very early on that he wanted to fall in love with something at least once a day.  
Why live without love?  
He knew what the grown ups would say.  
"Harry, you're not in love,"  
"You're only 7, how can you know what love is?"  
"That boy will only go and get his heart broken."  
These things confused Harry.  
Harry was pretty sure he knew what love was. Love is the warm fuzzy sensation you feel running through your body when you see someone or something. Louis made him feel that.  
Louis wouldn't break his heart. He couldn't imagine Louis hurting anyone's feelings, let alone breaking someone's heart.  
Harry thought he knew more about love than any grown up he had ever met.  
\--  
When he went to bed that evening, after a long day of training Sherlock, he decided he would stay up for Louis, and tell him how he felt. _Louis deserves to know_. Harry even considered the possibility that Louis felt the same way.  
He tried to plan out what to say in his head. He was only 7, yet he knew this was something that shouldn't be taken lightly; what he said now would affect everything between him and Louis. He thought of just implying the thought of love to Lou, let him figure it out himself, but then realised if the same was done to him, he'd feel cheated and confused.  
He would just have to tell the truth.  
\--  
The hours ticked by.  
9 pm. Nothing.  
10 pm. Nothing.  
11 pm. Nothing.  
12 am. Nothing.  
1 am. Nothing.  
By 2 am Harry had given up. But he did not lose hope. He knew he would probably see Louis the following night, and didn't want to overreact. They both had a lot on their minds. He could wait.  
\--  
The waiting game went on for two weeks. Harry stayed up every night, passion burning brighter every night, desperate for Louis to know.  
And for two weeks, Louis did not turn up.  
The raging inferno Harry felt before began to dwindle and burn out.  
The light in his eyes that Louis had brought and encouraged eventually dimmed to a dull, glassy look.  
Harry still loved Louis.  
A lot.  
But the hours Harry waited became shorter and his hope ran out.  
Louis wasn't coming.  
And the night he gave up, Louis did turn up. He was weak. He was dying. His time living in half - existance was running out. And now Harry was giving up, he had no chance of survival.  
He had made sure Harry was sleeping soundly, before appearing in his room.  
"I'm sorry Harry. I'm so sorry. I wish we could still be friends. But my time here is running out. I think we've both given up."  
He brushed feather light touches of his lips all over Harry's face. He no longer had the energy to speak.  
 _I love you, I love you, I love you._  
He just wished it was enough.  
And with that he was gone.  
Harry no longer dreamt of pretty boys with shining eyes and electric personalities. Instead, he dreamt of long lonely nights and dark skies.  
\--  
When Harry awoke, his Louis doll had completely vanished. He checked everywhere he could think of; under his bed, in his draws, in Sherlock's bed, with all his other toys. Gone without a trace.  
"Have you seen my Louis doll?" He had shouted down the stairs to no one in particular.  
"No!" Gemma replied almost immediately from behind her shut bedroom door.  
"No, sorry love," Anne called back "I didn't know you still played with your doll,"  
Even if Louis didn't show up, the doll was a reassurance, a reminder of what they used to have, a memory if nothing else.  
It filled him with a sense of loneliness paired with a pang of guilt for not trying harder.  
Why hadn't he tried harder to wake up Louis?  
Why hadn't he told him as soon as he had the oppurtunity?  
Why didn't he force Louis to stay with him?  
Why?  
Why?  
Why?  
\--  
He was ripped from his slumber roughly, in shock. A noise in his room had startled him awake. He rubbed his eyes and flicked on his bedside lamp, trying to figure out what it was.  
Louis.  
On his carpet.  
Sweating, shaking, trembling.  
Dying?  
Harry banished the thought from his head, jumping out of his bed in record timing.  
"Louis, Louis, I'm here, it's Harry, can you hear me?"  
The tanned boy's eyes fluttered open, weak. So weak.  
"Haz-" his voice was croaky and strained,  
"Don't speak Lou, you're going to be okay, I promise you, I promise," Harry's voice trailed off into incoherent babbles.  
Louis heard him run into the bathroom. He felt a cold flannel press against his forehead. His body being raised slightly, using Harry as support. Water being poured into his mouth. The liquid trickling through his body. He felt small yet determind hands pulling off his t-shirt, trying, trying, trying so hard to stop the fever.  
He drifted in and out of consciousness, hearing Harry's voice. Listening, always listening.  
He felt Harry peppering kisses over his cheeks, his eyelids, his lips, everywhere he could find. He smiled internally at the gesture. Where did he get this wonderful boy? Why did he leave him?  
"If you can pull through 'till the sun rise, you're gonna be okay, promise me Lou, pull through for me, please,"  
He nodded his head, ever so slightly.  
Fresh tears fell over his face. He could taste the salt on his lips. He was alive. He could do this.  
"I love you Louis, I love you, I never said it and I'm sorry, but I love you," his voice was desperate.  
Louis managed to move his hand to Harry's, and he squeezed his pinky finger with about as much force as a butterfly's wing.  
\--  
By the morning, Harry's body was slumped over Louis'. Opening his eyes, he felt the strain in his neck, and yelped out a little as he stretched. His mind raced back to the boy in front of him. He was breathing. He was as alive.He was okay.  
"Louis! You did it Lou, I knew you could Louis, c'mon Lou wake up!"  
Wincing, Louis sat up.  
Before he could say a word, he felt Harry's plush full lips on his own.  
Louis had never felt more alive.  
 _fin_

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading, all kudos and comments are appreciated x


End file.
